


Interlude: Some Lesbians Fuck Off To Earth Gimel's Version Of Lesbos And Make A Gay Town, A Town For Gays

by CloudDreamer



Category: Parahumans Series - Wildbow
Genre: "It's Easier To Imagine The End Of The World Than The End Of Capitalism" my ass I can do both, And Also Making A Town In The Middle of No Where, F/F, Gay Rights, Self Indulgence: Me, being gay and doing crime, wildbow probably didn't say this DIDN'T happen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-12-07
Updated: 2019-12-07
Packaged: 2021-02-17 22:22:37
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,382
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21700687
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/CloudDreamer/pseuds/CloudDreamer
Summary: It's what it says on the tin?TW: loosely implied homophobia, mentions of conversion therapy. it's not dark. it's just weird.
Comments: 15
Kudos: 32





	Interlude: Some Lesbians Fuck Off To Earth Gimel's Version Of Lesbos And Make A Gay Town, A Town For Gays

“Goddamnit, the end of the world is homophobic as fuck,” Gina said, her arms behind her head. Her rainbow hair was shaved short, and her similarly colored eyes with narrow pupils were only disconcerting if people looked right into them, which is why she usually wore shades above her standard look of a denim jacket with torn off sleeves over a black tank top, black jeans, and combat boots. Her skin was tough enough that she didn’t need armor. As far as most Case 53s went, she looked relatively normal, even if the shades made her look like a weirdo at night. Most people figured she was blind, which was far from the truth. 

“Amen to that,” Beck added. They sat on top of some wreckage, perching. Flighty. They were miles from where the actual finale against Psion had gone down— at the highest remaining point within reasonably distance from the remaining four of them according to one of Kennedy’s device— but that place was still a mess. “Goddamn.”

It was about a week after things had settled down. They’d only just gotten to really talking about what their next move was. Most of the worst injuries had healed, though Beck was missing fingers, and they’d all have scars. Two of their friends were dead, and they still didn’t have information on the teams they’d allied with in the past. 

“And now we’re going to have to rebuild society all over again. What are the odds they actually make it accessible for folks like us?” Gina scoffed. 

“Which us?” Kennedy asked. 

“All of the us’es, probably,” Beck answered while Gina was glaring at the open portal. She hated being dragged around. Puppeted. Fucking masters. The group didn’t have any, and she was glad. Creepy motherfuckers. She was a brute, plain and simple, and she’d rather kick someone’s ass straight forwardly. 

“We could fight for a seat at the table,” Andrea offered. Kennedy tossed the thing she’d been building through the portal and pulled something out of one of her pockets. 

“Chevalier might listen. He’s decent enough,” she suggested. 

“We’re criminals,” Andrea countered. 

“It’s not like we’re mass murderers. You saw Bonesaw running free. If they let her anywhere free, they won’t kill some nerds like us on sight,” Kennedy argued. 

“If they don’t arrest us, they’ll be sticks in the fucking mud. Retire or join us. Don’t go back to doing crime. Don’t beat up pieces of shit who haven’t done anything illegal we can prove.” One of the lesbians that had gotten killed in the fight was a kid they’d rescued from a conversion therapy program. Gina had gotten attached. Beck nodded. She’d triggered in a similar place as the kid. She knew what it was like.

“We’d look like shit in a white cape,” Beck said. They wrapped their black cloak around their shoulder, and Kennedy adjusted her lesbian pride themed tinker pin. “But we can’t exactly go back to doing what we were. People won’t be organized enough to pull major shit for a while, and there won’t be places we can drop kids off anymore.”

“It’s a whole new world,” Andrea added. 

“38 worlds,” Kennedy corrected. The thing she’d built started flying in patterns, transmitting data back to the group. “38 ones we can access easily with just the portals.”

“One of them’s gotta have some place for us,” Andrea concluded. 

“So, what, we try and settle down in some corner of the universe?” Gina asked. “Hide? Fight? Steal shit? Beck, how’ll your gaydar even work across universes?”

“People will spread out. Gimel will have the most people for a long time, since Brockton Bay’s portal was the first and most well known one. But they won’t cross continents there for years. America is big, even over there, and, oh, there’s a lotta resources down here.” Kennedy’s train of thought shifted mid sentence.

“The continents are the same?” Andrea asked, poking her head through, her feet planted solidly on the ground. Sticking. 

“More or less. Major differences in this world’s Asia, but the Americas are only a little skinnier with different landscapes. I was looking up maps. Oh, Greece is pretty perfect. I wanted to find Lesbos.” 

“God, you’re a nerd,” Gina said, rapping her knuckles against the metal cap Kennedy wore. Kennedy winced.

“It’s my job to be a nerd. We can’t all be jocks.” Kennedy looked smug. 

“Take that back, I’ve never played a fucking sport in my life.” 

“Did you find anywhere habitable?” Andrea interrupted. 

“Oh, yeah. Actually, that Lesbos? Totally perfect spot for people. Lots of resources. Even more than Bet’s. Not many portals nearby, but I’ve spent a year and a half making these little drones.” Most died before they found anything cool, Kennedy didn’t mention. She’d spent hours just making the dumb things. They knew her small work was fragile. “Why?”

“We could build something,” Andrea explained. “I mean, c’mon. We’ve gotten rid of some of the assholes making stuff worse, but we’ve never really had anywhere better to go. But this is an opportunity. Kennedy, you’re basically the best tinker for the job. All the surveying you’ve done. Beck, your gaydar can find the kinds of people we’d need to make it work _and_ the people who need a place to go. Gina is strong and fast enough to gather the resources we need, even in the winter, and I’m flexible enough to pull things together.” She pulled her hands out of her dark gray hoodie.

“Are you suggesting we build Gaytown? Because I’m down to fucking build Gaytown,” Gina asked.

“I am, in fact, suggesting we fucking build Gaytonw.” 

-  
Gaytown was a joke. 

None of them had homes to go back to, and Gina didn’t even remember hers. So, once, when they’d shown up for a Leviathan attack back when they were new, and a villain trying to make casual conversation asked where the team was from, Kennedy had panicked and said Gaytown, town of the gays. It was supposed to be a joke, anyway, but the villain had taken it seriously. Maybe. Or maybe he’d been fucking with them. They’d had too much to worry about anyway. None of them had managed to help, and they’d retreated after Beck had gotten hurt. But it was a funny thing to say, so they’d kept saying it. And it’d stuck. 

They hadn’t had a team name, so, Gaytownies they were. From the town of the gays. It wasn’t the best name in the world— the group probably woulda be on record as shit at naming things, if Gina was in charge of the PRT files. Her codename was Rainbow. Because she had rainbow hair, eyes, and her blood was rainbow. It also healed people when they drank it. Surprisingly nutritious, though it was hard for some people to get over the fact it was blood. It used to be Rainbow Dash, but the news only printed it as Rainbow cuz they didn’t want to get sued by Hasbro. Fuckers, Gina thought. They called Beck’s power gaydar, even though sexuality was only part of it, and it was more of a smell than it was radar. Beck’s codename was also Gaydar. Kennedy didn’t even have one, and Andrea’s— Rhea— was the result of somewhere hearing her (now dead) ex’s nickname for her and assuming it was a codename. 

Three weeks after what people had taken to calling Gold Morning, the four remaining Gaytownies stood on the bow of the S.S. LGBoaT. Five capes, some from the capes the remainder of the various teams they’d allied with in the past and others more recent triggers with no attachments to the cisheteronormative society they feared would be rebuilt, as well as four hundred and thirteen civilians, were aboard with them. The rest of the large ship was taken up with supplies. The Gaytown project had gotten a lot of support. Half of the people involved were in favor of the idea. The other half were just glad not to have the volatile supervillains threatening arson to homophobes. Andrea could pop across the globe when the mover power in her mosaic was the strongest and bring anyone who wanted to join them over, so they weren’t keeping themselves away from people who needed the retreat.The Undersiders had helped arrange most of it, Beck suspected. Tattletale really didn’t like interacting with other thinkers and keeping them away from New Brockton Bay, which the Gaytownies might’ve gone otherwise, would be an investment in their book. That girl had deep pockets. She was one of Earth Gimel’s masterminds and that sorta thing paid. 

Imp had liked the plan too. Something about legacies. Even when they’d explained they were ancoms and had no intentions of ruling their settlement, she’d just nodded and said she understood with a wink. That they “wouldn’t be ruling, wink, wink, nudge, nudge.” Foil and Parian offered clothing from their stores at a discount for solidarity reasons. Bitch hadn’t really said much either way, but she didn’t fight them either. 

Dragon had offered the ship, in exchange for some of Kennedy’s blueprints to help with settling the rest of the Earhts, and, in the tradition of the Gaytownies, they’d named it after a joke and didn’t come up with anything better afterwards. Unfortunately, only one of the new capes was good with names, and fey’d stalwartly refused to offer anything cool. The Not-The-Protectorate-Protectorate had helped send some of the queer refugees their way, as well as a trans girl who’d triggered during Gold Morning. 

They were getting into view of Lesbos just then. Egg, the recent trigger, stepped through the wall to see. Diana and Stonewall fallowed, though they used the door. “We’re here,” Andrea proclaimed. “Now the hard part begins,” Gina said. 

“Gina, you bitch, you know my drones have been setting up the hard stuff ahead of time. Don’t you trust me?”  
Gina waited a while before saying yes, which made Kennedy bunch her in the shoulder. Even with the gauntlets Kennedy wore, she rubbed her fists, hurt more by the contact than Gina was. “If your drones could do everything,” Andrea said, “we wouldn’t have brought most of the supplies with us.” “That’s cuz I needed to make the longer term stuff sturdier. Do you want the big stuff to explode when we’re there?” 

“No,” Beck said, right as Egg added, “Dunno.”

“Don’t encourage a tinker to make explosions, Egg,” Stonewall said. He crossed his arms, like he was about to turn solid and drop through the deck— again— but he kept to his flesh form. She crouched and then leaped upwards in her other state, landing on top of the roof she’d just came out from under. “That’s just a bad idea.” “Controlled demolitions could be useful,” Diana remarked but didn’t continue when she saw Beck shaking her head vigorously, hard enough that her dark brown ponytail whacked Gina in the face. Gina wasn’t phased by the reaction, not even reaching up to push their long hair out of her face. “Oh? No?” 

“Fuck no,” Gina replied. 

“I’ve tried,” Kennedy said and didn’t elaborate. 

“Where are the others?” Andrea asked.

“V.S. is sleeping. Wuh-la-wuh’s probably helping in the kitchen, since people there feel more confident than they should.” The stranger was the only person on the ship who Beck couldn’t track. It could get annoying, real quick. “From what my power’s telling me, Kennedy was right about the resources.’

“Duh.” “I hope this turns out well,” Diana said, biting her lip. Her large afro framed her beautiful face. She wore a white and gold costume, styled after some Roman statues she thought were cool. It was a lot less historical accurate than Artemis’s, and they’d all sat through a lecture from the Case 70 on how cool mythology was.  
“It’ll turn out fucking fantastic or I’ll know why,” Gina replied. “She’s nervous,” Artemis interjected, taking over the body for just a second. The transformation was a little nauseating. 

“We’re all nervous,” Stonewall said, wrapping up the conversation. 

-  
It wasn’t easy, building civilization. Some problems came up in both the Megapolis and Gaytown on Lesbos 2: Electric Bi-galoo. Naming issues, for one, though that was far from the most consequential. Capes fought. Most of the time, the eleven managed to channel their competitive energy into figuring out cool new ways to improve their settlement, but feelings were hurt over time. Relationships formed. They broke apart. 

People got hurt, and when they weren’t okay with drinking Gina’s blood, there weren’t really many options besides returning to the city and dealing with what was happening there. Mundane conflicts sprung up. People who brought their families sometimes found out their families weren’t as cool about the queer culture as they’d assumed. 

A broken trigger happened. Nobody understood why or what it was that’d happened until they’d connected to the internet, weeks later, and innocents were killed in the crossfire. Some others were lost to the elements. It was tiring work, building a new world. They couldn’t escape the problems of the old one, parahuman and normie human, and living without access to medication was extra hard, and they lost others to the stress. They didn’t have access to resources as fast as people in the city, even if they didn’t need to complete for them. 

But there were happy times too. Cuddled up around V.S.’s cyan fires, laughing about dumb shit from the old world. Seeing the looks of amazement on newcomers at how beautiful/ugly their settlement was. It was quite impressive, the pure volume of garish colors people had managed without access to traditional dyes. So much of what they did was reinventing the wheel, but each small rediscovery or piece of knowledge recovered was a victory. They were free, more or less, from homophobia. The population grew as time passed, even as some left, having recovered from traumatic events that’d lead to them seeking refuge in Gaytown. They’d all lost people. So many people. Along the way, they’d fucked up and ruined lives. They’d hurt people who didn’t need hurting and let people who were hurting others keep going just because it was inconvenient to make them pay. But they were free, and they had each other.

**Author's Note:**

> the one person with good taste in names is v.s. her name is vriska serket.


End file.
